Couple's Voodoo
by wickedsingularity
Summary: [x-mas stories 2017 #1, one shot] Sam and I had always known when the other was not right. Tony jokingly called it couple's voodoo. Steve found it sweet. Natasha said it was luck and intuition. Wanda knew it was real. I didn't care what it was, as long as it worked for us.


_wickedsingularity's Christmas Stories 2017_

* * *

It was more a feeling than something I knew. In my heart, deep in my soul, I felt that he was going through something. If it was the mission that didn't go as planned, or he was just struggling, or if he was hurt mentally or physically, I couldn't tell. All I knew for sure, was that I felt like something was wrong, and Maria refused to tell me anything even if I had the clearance for it.

Sam and I had always known when the other was not right. Tony jokingly called it couple's voodoo. Steve found it sweet. Natasha said it was luck and intuition. Wanda knew it was real. I didn't care what it was, as long as it worked for us.

The mission hadn't gone on for longer than anticipated. He was supposed to be gone for three weeks, and it had now been two. The feeling came over me after the first week. I had woken up in the middle of the night, sat bolt upright in bed, sweating and heaving for breath, screaming Sam's name. Pretty sure it must have looked and heard like I had seen the devil himself. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been on me at once, asking what was wrong. But I couldn't give her a straight answer.

I had called Maria minutes later and woken her up, but she threw the 'classified' card in my face and hung up. Naturally, I had been furious and had strode into her office first thing that morning. But there was nothing she could tell me.

On top of all this, it was now just over a week until Christmas, and Sam and I had never been apart during the holidays. Not even before we started dating. Safe to say I was getting anxious for him to come home already.

When the third week finally ended and Sam was scheduled to return, the knot of anxiety unravelled. It happened from one second to the other, and I knew he must be on the Quinjet, on his way back home. No matter what condition he was in, he was coming home to me, and that was all that mattered. If he was hurt in any way, we would deal with it together.

The relief that flooded me as my shoulders relaxed was absolute, and I felt my eyes flutter while I tried to focus on the noon news. A handful of minutes later, I had crawled down the couch and rested my head on a cushion. A few minutes after that, I was fast asleep, two weeks of tension had made me exhausted.

I had no idea for how long I had slept, but the next thing I remembered was the sound of the door closing followed by boots being kicked off. Heart beating wildly in my chest, I was suddenly wide awake and sitting up on the couch.

"Sam?"

I could hear the rush of air from him as if he had been holding his breath for a long time. Then the thud of what must be his bag, and then footsteps as he came rushing into the living room. I barely had time to notice the bruises on his face and the limp in his step before he had swept around the couch and pulled me up and into his arms, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, my legs around his waist.

He said my name, over and over again. It sounded like a prayer for help, the way he breathed it out. My heart ached for what he must have been through, and I tightened my hold on him. He did the same to me in return and buried his face where my shoulder met my neck, probably getting a face full of hair, and breathed me in. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Samuel Thomas Wilson." Every time he came home from a mission, I used his whole name like that. I felt like it confirmed his presence. He did the same if I had been away. "What happened?"

A shudder went through him and my heart ached even more. "I saw things. They... they made me see things. I saw you..." His breath hitched, and he seemed to almost lose his balance. Instinct had him turn around and sit down safely on the couch, still with me wrapped around him.

"I'm here, Sam. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." I let my hand softly stroke the hair on his neck, the other sliding down and under the top of his jacket, letting him feel my skin against his. "Tell me what you need, love."

"You. Need you."

I leaned back and looked into his chocolate eyes. They were haunted by whatever he had seen. "I'm all yours," I whispered, before leaning forward, pressing my lips to his. He leaned into it, and a bit of his tension went away. "Take me to the bedroom," I spoke against his lips, and I felt the faintest of smiles against my lips.

With the grace that came from years of flying and navigating in the air, he stood up, held me securely in his arms and moved us into the bedroom. Sam gently sat me down on the bed and was about to take off his protective jacket, but I stood up quickly and stopped him with my hands over his.

"Before we do anything, I'm going to clean those bruises on your face and any other bruise or injury you may have, okay?"

He only nodded and looked at my hands as I began undressing him. The black jacket came off, then the military green wool shirt, revealing a large dark bruise on his ribs, and a gash below his ribs that had started scabbing a bit.

"Can you take off the rest and sit down while I get the first aid kit?"

"Yeah," he mumbled and began unbuckling his belt as I hurried into the ensuite to get the kit. By the time I came back, he was pulling off his socks, only black wool boxer briefs left.

"Tell me, handsome, what on earth went through your mind while you took your pants off?" With an amused smile, my eyes lingered on his underwear and the growing bulge there.

His eyes snapped to mine and he looked a bit abashed, but his gaze held firm on mine. "How much I want you right now."

"Samuel..." I shook my head and set the first aid kit down, digging through it for the items I needed. I grabbed the gauze pads and the distilled water, and motioned for Sam to sit on the edge of the bed. The small cuts on his face looked clean enough and some were already scabbing slightly, but I moved to stand between his legs, and gently cleaned them anyway. All the while, Sam slowly ran his hands up and down my thighs, gazing up at me. The haunted look in his eyes was slowly receding, instead replaced with the warmth and adoration that made me feel all giddy inside.

The rest of his injuries were attended to quickly because, frankly, it was very distracting to have his hands running all over me like that. I put away the medical supplies and washed my hands.

"Come back here, babe," came Sam's tired and slightly gravelly voice.

"What?" I asked.

He motioned for the spot between his legs again, and I obeyed. "Just want to touch you." Warm hands slid up over my thighs again. "Need to feel you." They pushed up my tank top, and slid behind me, grabbing my ass to push me closer. His soft as sin lips landed on my stomach, and I closed my eyes. "Missed you," he mumbled against me, the soft vibrations sending sparks right through me.

"I missed you too." My hands wound into his hair, my fingers playing with the short curls. "I felt your distress. So glad you're home."

"Talk about it later." Sam was lifting my top even further, and I let him. His eyes didn't leave mine, even as it was revealed I wasn't wearing a bra. Hands explored, though. I hummed in response, having his hands on me again felt too good.

I didn't have much on, but slowly, and so sensually, Sam undressed me. He took his time to kiss and touch every inch of skin he could reach. My tank fell in a heap on the floor, and my breasts and arms and stomach were tingling with his featherlight touches. Pyjama bottoms were pulled down, agonizingly slow. The room was warm, but his kisses felt warmer, and my skin prickled with cold when his lips moved on to another inch of me he hadn't yet kissed.

Finally, his fingers hooked into the waistband of my underwear and pulled them down. I stepped back to give him room, and then kicked the garment to who knows where. Sam grabbed my ass again and pulled me to him. He pressed his face into the space below my bellybutton and inhaled. The action had my heart racing and my face heating up.

Then one hand sneakily slid forwards and between my thighs, making me gasp. "For me, sugar?"

"Always for you," I breathed.

He made me spread my legs a bit, and with a wobbly move, I did. Two fingers slowly teased me, causing me to lose my balance slightly. For the three weeks that he'd been gone, I hadn't touched myself once. The temptation had been there, on the cold and lonely nights I missed him the most, but the constant anxious tension I felt from him had kept me from doing anything. Seeing him, hearing him, touching him, smelling him, I was hypersensitive to his every touch.

Sam pulled his hand back and licked his fingers. He closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against me and moaned at the taste.

"Sam..." I whined.

He began crawling back on the bed and pulled me with him. The beautiful brown of his eyes was drowned by his pupils. As he settled back against the pillows, I straddled him and leaned my arms on his chest, moving my hips.

It was his turn to whine. His hands grabbed my hips to still my moves.

"Are you sure, Sam?" I needed to know, needed to be certain this was that he needed and wanted before he told me about the mission.

"I need you, baby. Please."

Together, we removed his last piece of clothing. "Babe..." he begged, and I couldn't deny him. Climbing into position, I slid down while staring into his eyes. That first moment, that first connection, it always took my breath away. I revelled in the feeling for a few moments.

Hands on his chest for support, I began moving, pulling the most delicious groans from his lips. He slid his hands up my thighs and circled my hips, not guiding me, but just following my moves. It was slow and torturous, but exactly what we both needed.

Sam gazed up at me, his calloused and soft hands wandering to wherever they could reach. Having been celibate for three weeks, it was all making me climb fast. The coil in my stomach was tight, so tight it was unbearable. Sam must have seen that I was right at the edge and helped guide me by taking a tight hold on my hip, the other hand pressing on me once, twice, three times, and I crashed, unintelligible sounds tumbling from my lips. My head dropped forward and my hair fell in front of my face.

"Dammit, love," he said in a rush, followed by a groan.

"Three weeks, Sam," I explained breathlessly. "Three weeks."

He chuckled and pulled me down, claiming my lips. It was tongue against tongue from the first taste. His arms were wrapped tight around my back, and then he moved us around. For a few seconds, he looked down at me. Then he began thrusting. I was so sensitive it hurt slightly, but it still felt so good. His whole body was against mine, legs tangling with my thankfully freshly shaven ones, head dropping down to kiss my shoulder. I let my hands rake across his back, feeling the muscles flex and tracing the tiny rises of old battle scars.

Like an ocean wave, he rolled into me, again and again. My hips rose to meet hum, my back arching.

"So good, Sam. So good. So good," I chanted against his lips, fingers digging into his shoulders. I slid my hands up to his head, making him kiss me. His tongue dominated mine, adding to the tension that was building rapidly again.

Sam angled his hips in that way he knew would make me see stars, and our lips parted as I gasped for breath, a strangled sound in my throat.

"Again?"

I nodded, eyes rolling into my head. " _Yes_. Please, Sam."

Sam reached for my hands and held them firmly above my head, his fingers lacing with mine. "Then go."

Closer and closer. My vision tunnelling until I had to close my eyes. I was seconds away.

"Look at me."

I knew the words, but not their meaning.

"Love, look at me."

Like moving through thick mud, my eyes opened. The lust and love in his eyes were what sent me over the edge. My hands clenched around his, body arching like a snake, a choked scream coming from me. Liquid fire erupted at my core and spread through my body, chaotic along with the butterflies in my stomach and the two racing heartbeats. Deep within the moaning euphoria, I knew it was wishful thinking that I could now feel Sam's heartbeat inside me, but in this moment, I wanted to believe it.

Straining to keep my eyes open, I saw Sam's face contort as he came too. He began saying my name, but it morphed into a groan, his head falling into the crook of my neck. I shook with the aftermath, but I tried to kiss his shoulder.

When our breathing returned to normal, Sam let go of my hand and rolled us over and pulled me to him to snuggle. I reached for the comforter and pulled it up.

"I like what you've done to the place," he said playfully.

I frowned and looked around the bedroom. It was the same as it had always been. But then I saw the colourful lights of the Christmas tree in the living room shine past the slightly open door and smiled. "Yeah. I tried. It wasn't the same decorating without you though."

"We've always done that together. Even before we were _us_ we helped each other decorate."

"Yeah..."

"Did you...?" He looked pointedly at me.

I chuckled and nodded, and reached for something on the bedside table. He took the remote from me and pointed it towards the window. Two seconds later, the outline of a slightly tilted bell shone golden in the window. Five seconds more, and it smoothly transitioned into a bell tilted in the other direction.

I let out a breath of relief. "I didn't want to turn it on until you came home. So happy it still works." It was the first thing we bought together. It was stupid, but that's why we loved it, and it had always been the first thing we put up, but we had both forgotten in the rush of his mission. It was a few years old now, a handful of the tiny, tiny bulbs didn't work anymore. It was a Christmas miracle that the thing even lit up.

Sam put the remote away and turned back to me. "No more work until next year."

We snuggled under the covers, whispered many 'I love you's, and in the golden light of the two bells, we fell asleep.


End file.
